Hugh and Diana's Night Out
(Content Warning: Emotional Abuse, Body Shaming)

Canvasville, 1931

Ever since the unprecedented stock market crash, the toonish town continued to flounder in poverty for the last year and a half. Sadness and pain dotted everyone's faces as food shortages became commonplace, and unemployment was still at an all-time high. Still, there were pockets of the optimistic spirit of the Roaring 20's still left, but only the rich had the luxury of partaking in it. On this particular evening, the mayor of Canvasville rented out the first floor of the Royal Blue Hotel for a party, with the guest list consisting of the many philanthropists that funded the new school building.

One of these philanthropists was Hubert Jasper Forric, a freshly-famous, ultra-wealthy movie director, riding the wave of popularity from his last two films. On the pool deck, the hefty gentleman leaned on the iron gate separating his lavish lifestyle from the rest of Canvasville's poor. He held a cigar lazily in his fingers, blowing puffs of smoke into the night's sky. Previously, Hugh's entire evening was filled with meet-and-greets with other powerful men and women, answering the same 5 questions about his movies, politely dismissing submissive suck-ups, and abstaining from his own temptations. Though he would never admit it, even to himself, being a significant source of attention was tiring at times. Hugh's respite away from the hotel's festivities was broken when he heard a woman's sing-songing voice calling his name from indoors.

“Huuuuubey~”, she called.

Hugh took another drag from his nearly-finished cigar. Maybe he was just hearing things, with the music and social cacophony from the hotel's interior muddling noises together.

“Huuuuubey, where are youuuuu?”, she called again. The clacking of high heels quickly approached.

Hugh exhaled a ring of smoke and turned around. His irritation hid behind a small smile.

“There you are! I thought I lost you!”, the tall, hourglass-shaped figure of Diana Garnette Diamondhart greeted him from the lit doorway. “Oh! It's freezing out here! Come inside before you catch cold!”, she added, clutching herself. Her white, shoulder-length gloves and signature strapless pink gown did little to protect her from the elements.

“I'm fine, Diana”, Hugh replied. “Maybe you should have worn a warmer dress.”

Diana scowled for a brief moment, but regained herself. “Darling, the mayor and his wife really wanted to talk to you.”

“Don't worry, I've met with the mayor already. Shook his hand on the way in.”

“Have you met his -wife-?”

The portly man paused for a moment, then looked down at the floor. “No.”

“Enunciate.”

“No, I don't believe I've made her acquaintance.”

Diana waggled a finger. “Come on, dear. A proper gentleman honours every social correspondence!”, she said, with all the inflection of a mother.

“You're right.”, Hugh said, ambling towards her.

As he approached, Diana put her hand out. “Wait. I need to make sure you're presentable.”

Hugh stopped. He stood stock still, only moving his eyes to watch Diana inspect and fiddle with his clothing. His tie tightened. His fedora adjusted. Wrinkles were smoothed. Loose threads were removed from fabric.

Diana sighed. “Why do you keep undoing these?”, she asked, pointing to the bottom two buttons on Hugh's jacket.

“They're too tight.”

“You look horrible... hanging out like that. I don't want you to embarrass yourself.”, she said, bending down to button his jacket. She strained to bring the buttons together over Hugh's belly, but with a few grunts, the two pairs finally clasped together.

“Thanks.”

“One last thing”, Diana said, rising up. “I need a kiss.”

Hugh leaned in close, only for Diana to push him away.

She wrinkled her nose. “Never mind, you smell like an ashtray!”, she yelped. Diana did an exaggerated about-face, making her dress sweep the pool deck floor. “Let's go inside, and for heaven's sake, put that out.”

Hugh dropped the cigar on the floor and smushed it under his shoe. He followed along behind her, a tentative smile on his face.

Diana and Hugh entered the hotel, rejoining the other guests. As they walked, many pairs of eyes turned to look at the popular star couple, eyes that belonged to all sorts of toons – human, animal, object, monster, and miscellaneous. Even ignoring their fame, it was hard not to ignore how comically different their bodies were. Diana was thin and perfectly sculpted like a regal chess piece, while Hugh remained obese, massive and formless in comparison. In general, the pair's popularity transcended beyond cultural barriers - Diana and Hugh appeared to exemplify the pinnacle of femininity and masculinity. Men ogled, hooted and hollered for Diana's attention. Men often gave Hugh “attaboys” and other accolades, often hinted with a little jealousy. To the men, Hugh was someone to live vicariously through. To the men, Diana was the submissive eye candy, while Hugh was the proud, wealthy provider in the relationship. To the men, Hugh served as a stand-in for their undesirable underdog fantasies with Diana as the end goal. Women were also charmed by the couple, but were much more passive about it. Women dressed like Diana, talked like Diana, and gestured like Diana. Women complimented Diana. Women never complimented Hugh.

Diana walked forward at a faster pace, craning her neck to get a better view through the crowd. Her high-heels only provided her with a minimal advantage, as Canvasville's mayor was lost in a sea of colourful characters. As the two advanced, the big brass band at the rear of the room got louder and louder. They passed a bar table with drunk, rowdy men, Diana not even flinching as the lecherous perverts catcalled her.

Hugh didn't even bother looking around for the mayor, instead focusing his attention on something more important. From the corners of his vision, Hugh could see Royal Blue Hotel employees carrying trays of hors d' oeuvres, and buffet tables lining the sides of the room, each decorated with the remaining lavish food after a long night of festivities. The cigar smoke quickly dissipated, and his nostrils were assaulted with the delicious, distracting temptation to sin. A luxurious dessert with a tuft of whipped cream and fruit slices entered Hugh's peripheral, almost making him bump into his gorgeous girlfriend.

The beautiful bombshell beamed as she finally located her target. “Yoo-hoo! Mr. Gaaaanderbilt! Over heeeere!” she called, waving excitedly.

The crowd of guests parted to make way for a pair of white, nicely-dressed anthropomorphic geese. One was wearing a top hat, black suit and bowtie, while the other wore a pearl necklace, a powder blue blouse and a straw hat decorated with flowers. Approaching the star-studded couple, the black-suited bird extended a pair of white, feathery hands. “Hello again, Mr. Forric!”, he said.

Hugh tipped his fedora in response. “Evening, Mayor Ganderbilt.”

Diana flipped her hair in a flirtatious manner, “You couldn't stay away from me, could you, Clark?”, she teased. Diana side-eyed the mayor's wife as she sunk slightly from Diana's overt display. It felt good to be the alpha female.

“Ms. Diamondhart, I'd think nothing of the sort!”, Clark Ganderbilt said playfully. “My best girl here wanted to meet the man responsible for her new favourite film!”

The powder blue-clothed bird turned to Hugh and extended out her wing. “Uh, hello. I'm Trudy. Trudy Ganderbilt.”

Hugh took hold of her wing. “I'm pleased to make your acquaintance, ma'am.”, he greeted. He shook hands with the smiling, star-struck goose.

“I'm so happy to finally meet you!”, Trudy gushed. “I really enjoyed “Swan Song”, it was such a wonderful picture!”

Hugh smiled, genuinely this time. “Oh? What did you like about it?”, he asked. He couldn't resist having his ego stroked.

Trudy Ganderbilt blushed, “Ohhh, it was so romantic!”, she said, dreamily. “I wish my husband fixed up an entire theatre just for me!”

Clark chuckled. “Trudy, we just got the funding for the new school, and now you want another theatre? At least let me tear down that old “Termite Theatre” first!”

Hugh sighed and averted his gaze. That “Termite Theatre” was really the “Twilight Theatre” where he first started his performing career. Even though it was an absolute eyesore, he couldn't bear to hear it being disparaged, even after burning all of the bridges with his former theatre co-stars. Sometimes, he caught himself wondering whatever happened to the old crew – gossip was increasingly scarcer the further he socialized with the affluent. As far as he knew, Charleston Waltz and Ella Pawman were doing well for themselves with Ella's “Alley Cat” short comedies. Ella was even planning on marrying her sweetheart Clive Peck, the banjo-playing tabby cat that played for the theatre time to time. Ijinks H. Iwerx apparently suffered a mental breakdown and busied herself with a solo film career and randomly inventing useless junk, while Flicky D. Firefly appeared to drop off the face of the Earth. None of them, not even the part-timer performers would speak to Hugh. Maybe they were intimidated by success.

Trudy tilted her head, made more exaggerated by her long, white waterfowl neck. “Mr. Forric? How did you come up with the idea for the story?”, she asked.

“Hm?” Hugh snapped back to attention. “Oh, well, the economy is in a right state with the stock market crash and all. So, I figured, why not write a story about fixing up something old and depressing into something new and wonderful?” His subconscious guilt had nothing to do with it.

Clark nodded sagely. “You're a good man, keeping all those poors on the sunny side. We wont get out of this crisis without thinking positively, eh?”

“Too right, that's why I made it an upbeat musical.”, the fedora-hatted fat man added.

Diana grew tired of not being the center of attention. “The romantic scenes were my idea!”, she chirped, butting into the conversation.

“Indeed, she's very good at that sort of thing.”, Hugh relented. Admittedly, he was a little envious of his own character in “Swan Song”. His character sang heartfelt love songs to Diana's character. His character could experience love for a beautiful woman like Diana. His character nervously stumbled over words, felt the butterflies in his stomach, the burning flush on his face, and the intense euphoria over true love's first kiss. His character was just like every other man. Every other man would be happy to be Diana's other half. Every other man would rush to marry her and live happily ever after, providing for their many children. Instead, Hugh was not every other man, even feeling queasy at the thought of “having children” with her.

The blonde-haired woman giggled at Hugh's compliment. “Oh! By the way, did you two see me in “The Giant Bombshell”? Wasn't I stunning?”

Clark leaned forward with interest. “Of course, Ms. Diamondhart! But, how did you make it look like you were 50 feet tall?”

“We built a tiny model city for me to stomp around in. My man spared no expense!” Diana replied, gesturing towards Hugh. “Even when he's playing a crazy scientist, he's got a good head on his shoulders.”

Hugh furrowed his brow. “Actually, Dr. Willard Grover isn't crazy, he's just misunderstood”, Hugh began, raising his pointer finger. “He's only lashing out at society because-...”

“Hubey, honey...” Diana interrupted. “They want to know about the exciting parts”, she added dismissively. “Like the part where I tore up the circus tent!”

The spherical man simmered silently as Diana bragged about herself. The 'pop' of a cork caught his attention, and he looked over to see a blue-suited anthropomorphic elephant - another hotel employee - pouring a bottle of champagne into individual glasses with his trunk. A human couple clinked the glasses together and simultaneously downed the bubbling drink all in one go. Hugh salivated.

He must have been staring for too long, as Diana subtly leaned against Hugh. While still talking, she pressed her high-heel directly into Hugh's shoe, her long pink dress obscuring the whole act.

Hugh winced and turned back to the mayor and his wife. “Piano!”

Clark and Trudy Ganderbilt looked on in bewilderment at Hugh's sudden outburst. Diana just looked annoyed.

“Pardon me...”, Hugh began, looking a little flustered. “What I meant to ask was... shall I play the piano for you and your guests?” He looked at the geese with pleading eyes. His hands craved to be too busy to act on other, more greedy impulses.

The long-necked birds both laughed at Hugh's request. Trudy adjusted her straw hat, “Mr. Forric, we already have a band playing! Just relax for the evening, wont you?”, she said.

The director deflated slightly. “Right. Of course.”

Clark's eyes glimmered with the spark of an idea. “Oh! We should have a couple's dance!”, he said, turning to his white-feathered wife. “And you said I don't do anything romantic!”

Trudy beamed with excitement, “That sounds wonderful, dear!”, she chirped.

Diana's tugged at the tubby man's tuxedo jacket. “Hubey, wont you dance with me? Please?”, she asked, giving him the largest diamond-shaped puppy dog eyes.

Hugh stammered something unintelligible as Diana playfully pulled at his sleeve. The last thing he wanted to do was to be even closer to her, but fighting off his temptations was mentally tiring. “Alright, princess.”, he said.

Clark clapped his wings together. “I know! I'll go tell the band to put on their best love song! How does “Fields of Spring Jade” sound to you?”

“I love that one!”, Diana chimed in.

Love songs were a foreign entity to Hugh, but he nodded anyway. “Fair enough.”

The top-hatted goose grabbed his wife's arm, “Excellent! See you two on the dance floor, don't be long!”, he added, just before waddling off.

Diana smiled and waved, watching the two birds mesh into the crowd again. As soon as they disappeared, her smile disappeared too. She swiveled towards her large lover, “Hugh, you were doing it again.”, she said in a low voice.

“Doing what?”

The blonde bombshell narrowed her eyes.

Hugh nervously tugged at his collar. “Sorry.”

“It's fine.” Diana shrugged. “You should be glad that I'm around to keep you out of trouble, darling.”

“Thanks.”

The perfectly-sculpted princess looked at the big brass band playing at the far end of the room. They were on a raised platform, playing a fast-paced piece. In front of them, guests of varying sobriety boogied on a slightly-too-small dance floor. “One song, just enough for the mayor and the others.”, she finally said. “I know your legs have to carry a lot.”

“Mmm-hm.”, the hefty man grunted. Was Diana being passive aggressive or considerate? Either way, she wasn't wrong.

She looked at Hugh and grinned. “You did well tonight, Hubey. I'm so proud of you.”

Hugh smiled weakly and glanced upwards at the hotel's lights. “Yeah, I guess I did.”

The band's song finally came to a end. Soon after, Mayor Ganderbilt talked to the brass band's conductor – some sort of purple creature with six tentacles. The conducting critter made an announcement about the next song. Lone, individual dancers walked off the dance floor, couples walked on.

The exquisitely-dressed doll extended out her hand. “Come on, big boy. Let's go.”

Hugh took Diana's hand, letting her lead him through the crowd again.

Arriving at the dance floor, the two of them took up residence next to Clark and Trudy. The geese were perfectly entwined with one another, their long necks making a heart shape as their heads pressed together. Hugh and Diana were out-of-place in comparison due to their size difference. The widest parts of Diana's body – her enormous perky breasts and her thick hips – were dwarfed by Hugh's essence. Even with the extra height from her heels, Diana's big blonde hairdo could only just reach Hugh's chins. As the music began, Diana placed her tiny, fragile hand into her boyfriends pudgy paw. The couple started dancing with all the grace of a massive grayscaled glacier enveloping a delicate painted snowflake. Soulful trumpets wailed in the background.

Hugh got lost in Diana's blue sapphire eyes as they stepped, his troubles eroding away. Maybe it was the music, or maybe it was all of the people watching them, but he felt a sudden rush of power. Diana was his girlfriend, his property, his trophy to lord over the other jealous men. His and his alone. Forever and ever. The rotund egomaniac was so lost in his own world that he didn't even notice Diana cringe after grabbing one of his love handles.

Unfortunately for Diana, she decided to over-correct her faux pas by leaning in even closer to Hugh, hugging his sides and hiding her embarrassed face in his chest. Burying her head in a wall of blubber was far from glamorous, but she couldn't risk straining the relationship much further. After all, Hugh's wealth could buy her anything she wanted.

The grayscaled gentleman's face turned rosy as his gorgeous girlfriend embraced him. Finally, some appreciation for his immense temple of a body!

Diana removed her head from Hugh's chubby chest. Craning her neck up, she whispered into Hugh's ear. “I love you.”

“Love you too.”

They stepped in time to the percussion. One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four. Spin. One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four. During one passionate measure of music, Hugh dipped his darling gracefully. From Diana's point of view, she could see the light catch beads of sweat on Hugh's forehead. Even the most rudimentary physical activity wore him out.

With disgust hiding behind Diana's soft smiling face, she decided to over-correct herself again. “Kiss me”, she requested.

Hugh flinched for a moment, remembering the earlier attempt. He leaned down, closing his eyes. They both locked lips, with Diana's tongue only slightly exploring his mouth, as per usual. After several seconds, they separated again.

Diana pulled away from Hugh's massive frame. She licked her lips with a puzzled look, her eyes drifting off to a random point in space.

“You tasted the cigar, didn't you love?” Hugh joked awkwardly. “Sorry about that.”

Diana didn't reply. The pink princess puckered her lips, still deep in thought.

Hugh felt a small lump form in his throat.

The lady looked at Hugh with piercing blue eyes. “Cheese.”

“Huh?”

“Hugh.” Diana narrowed her eyes again. “Why do I taste... cheese?”

“Speak up, I can't hear you over the music”, Hugh said.

Diana thrust herself against Hugh's body again, her head right below his ear. “You slipped again, didn't you?”, she muttered.

“I... I don't know what you're talking about.”, Hugh faltered.

“Don't you love me, Hubey?”, Diana asked innocently.

Hugh was silent, still holding the honey-haired lass close. To an outside observer, the couple looked as if they were whispering sweet nothings to each other. Both of them continued with their dance steps without missing a single beat.

“Hubey, if you really loved me, you wouldn't keep secrets.” Diana said, with some agitation present in her voice.

Hugh was silent. His eyes darted around to the other couples around him as Diana's vice closed in.

“I thought you wanted me to help you.”, Diana continued.

Hugh was silent.

“How much was it this time?”, she spat softly.

“One.”, Hugh finally replied.

The vexxed vixen tightened her grip on Hugh's body. “One, what?” It was never just “one” with this mountain of a man.

“One... cheese wheel.”

The dame processed this for a few seconds. How in the world did Hugh get his greedy hands on an entire cheese wheel? She glanced up at her lover, only to see the same dreamy, dopey expression he always gets whenever he's in awe of his own gluttony. She stared diamond-shaped daggers at him. “Did anyone see you?”

Hugh's face was fraught with woe as he was forcefully brought back down to Earth. “I don't know.”, he admitted in a rare moment of self-consciousness.

The saucy starlet had a sudden realization. That's why he was outside, why he had a cigar, why she could barely button his jacket. “You bastard.”, she said through gritted teeth.

Hugh was silent.

“You disgusting, bloated bastard”, Diana cursed. “I can't believe you tried to hide it from me.”

Hugh was silent. The band started was on the final part of the song, suddenly beginning it's crescendo.

“You're an embarrassment, Hubert. Any other woman would have left you by now. You should be lucky to have me.”

Hugh was silent, his grey face turning crimson with guilt.

“I hate you.”

Hugh was silent. The music reached it's final, emotional swell.

“What do you have to say for yourself?”, Diana huffed. “Or is your mouth only good for eating?”

With the music coming to it's dramatic close, Hugh dipped his furious femme fatale one last time. Staring directly into Diana's eyes, Hugh noticed her diamond-shaped pupils formed into reptilian slits. The pudgy philanthropist smiled weakly, under the pressure of Diana's gaze. With sweat pouring down his face, Hugh barely managed to squeak out his excuse. “I just couldn't help myself.”

The music ended, and all Diana could think about was ending Hugh. Thinking of many unladylike things like using him as a portly punching bag. Or to spit in his fat-folded face, but he'd probably eat that too. Instead, she ripped herself away from his body and stormed off without a word.

Hugh reached out for Diana as she disappeared into the crowd. His mouth hung open, unable to yell out an argument or even an apology. Not wanting to cause a scene, he glanced around at the other couples. Clark and Trudy Ganderbilt glanced back, with concern in their eyes.

Trudy raised a wing. “Are you alright, Mr. Forric?”

Hugh regained a little of his composure, but his face was still sweaty and red like a dewy tomato. “Everything's okay ma'am, I just stepped on her foot, is all.”

Clark Ganderbilt laughed. “Goodness, as big as your are, I'd be angry too.”, he joked.

“Shhh, Clark!”, Trudy said, blushing pink. She chuckled nervously and ushered herself and her husband away.

Hugh rolled his eyes and walked off the dance floor. He made his way through the other guests and over to an isolated column near the bar table. He leaned against it, sighing in relief at his immense weight being supported. Diana refused to let him sit or lean on anything fragile under her watchful eye. Speaking of which, Hugh had no idea where Diana had gone, and had no intention of finding her. After all, their fighting had become more and more of an everyday occurrence at this point. Hugh took out another cigar from behind his back, puffed it, and pouted.

Other guests passed by, each getting a death glare from Hugh if they so much as looked at him. All of the tempting food slowly vanished. The crowd became sparse as philanthropic party goers left one-by-one. The band packed up their instruments, and the mayor announced “last call” on the bar. It was 10 minutes to midnight now and Diana was still nowhere to be found. Perhaps she took the late trolley home.

The fedora-hatted fellow spun the night's events around in his head, with his own guilt and hedonistic desires perpetually in a tug-of-war. Hugh's heart sank. Maybe he should be grateful Diana was there to watch over him. Maybe he was an insatiable manchild. Maybe he should feel disgusted at his own body. Maybe he was mentally ill. Maybe she was always right. His rumination was only broken when he remembered the wonderful feeling he had when consuming that entire cheese wheel. How aromatic it felt to his nostrils. The zesty taste and creamy texture, bite after blissful bite. The slow tightening of his tuxedo jacket. The new heaviness in his stomach, patting it affectionately after the final mouthful. Truly, he felt that his immense body was beautiful, powerful and godlike, and he'd continue to see it that way, even if nobody else did. Eyeing the bar, he thought about bingeing on the one socially acceptable substance – alcohol. With his heart fluttering and mouth watering, he sauntered over to the bar table. 10 minutes was all he needed.